


Midnight Mischief

by Pangolinia



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Feeding, Goodnight Kiss, Shareable Snacks, Sleepiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:35:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26232028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pangolinia/pseuds/Pangolinia
Summary: Garreg Mach's two loners meet at the kitchen for a midnight snack. Bernadetta is far too sleep drunken to be decently anxious, while Felix is just overwhelmed.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Bernadetta von Varley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Midnight Mischief

A sudden roar, demanding and hungry, cut through the sound of a lone blade swishing and whizzing through the air as it parried another blow from a phantom that bore a striking resemblance to the swordsman himself. The lone wolf snarled and jerked his head from side to side to find the marplot disturbing his training, ready to throw the wooden training blade at someone's head, preferably at a royal boar or a redheaded fox.

All Felix accomplished were black dots blurring his vision and the realization that he was alone. Alone at the hour of the lone wolf, how poetic. Positioning his feet in an offensive stance, Felix readied himself for another round with an imaginary opponent, this time wearing the mask of professor Byleth. The ashen demon nonchalantly approached, and Felix braced himself for a blow of the creator's sword - one that would never come.

First, the swordsman knew he was fighting dusty air - he was in a self-conscious training trance, not indulging in a delusion -, besides his limited imagination merely created a shallow vision of the skilled fighter. Second, Felix heard the angry roar again, shattering the illusion of the turquoise-haired woman once and for all. This time, he located the origin of the blaring sound and cursed his arrogance.

Felix's stomach, being in the mental spotlight of the swordsman for once, decided that it was time to make a gloriously spiteful entrance. Its muscles cramped and contracted around a void created by hours of neglection; neglection born from an absurd delusion of control. Acid bubbled and foamed inside of him, burned his throat as the gastric fluid threatened to gush out in a cascade.

Fine, no problem, Felix merely needed some food to quell his rebellious stomach. Belatedly, the swordsman realized that dinner time had long passed; Felix was six damn hours too late. Four hours too late to fetch some overly sweet leftovers, and one hour too late to hope for anything at all. Still, the dining hall seemed the most promising possibility, a far better choice than starving. Following the archaic orders, the swordsman reluctantly sheathed his sword, ending the ghostly duels for the night, and went down a moonlit path, composed of myriads of dark and grey shades.

Darkness was ne'er a quandary for the surly noble, as a matter of fact, Felix liked to sensitize his senses, trained them for the eventuality of a battle at night. A lesson Felix had learned while serving as the squire of a nameless knight who would never earn a title now, having died in a nightly ambush. Chivalry and fairness were no virtues honoured by bandits, brigands or insurgents, after all. A lesson, Felix had learned even earlier.

However, Felix roamed the night confidently. After five moons, the swordsman knew the outline of the monastery inside out. With the position of every tree, bush, flowerbed and stone path engraved in his brain, Felix could walk the monastery blindfolded. Eight more paces and he would pass the dormitories, past the chambers of the Professor, Dedue and Ashe before turning left and entering the meticulously cultivated gardens.

Upon crossing the professor's window, Felix noted a lone light burning, revealing the shapes of multiple stacks of books and papers encircling the vague profile of Professor Byleth fighting with an overly feathery quill. It was odd to think about the former mercenary hovering over theoretical certifications, deciding if one would pass or fail. Perhaps, Felix mused, the professor corrected his paper at this moment, a look of despair on her usually indifferent face that mirrored his own as he struggled with ' _Reason with the Unreasonable_ '.

Leaving the quarters behind, Felix encountered several felines mewling their midnight salute at him. They nuzzled their noses against his legs, jumped between them while he walked and demanded some attention in that typical cat manner that consisted of alternating amid nudging and biting. And each time, Felix felt obliged to scratch an ear, rub a chin or pet a head. The swordsman knew most of them by now. One was courageous, one tetchy, one playful and one amiable. The latter one sniffed as Felix scratched her marshmallowy-tinted nose, her copper eyes gleamed while she rubbed her head possessively against his leg.

As the weary swordsman arrived at the garden, the cats following him had already grown to a considerable crowd of grey furriness. Or however, someone classified numerous cats gathered together. Maybe a pack, swarm or herd? Felix could not tell. Marianne might know it. The reserved girl was good with animals; birds, horses and boars alike. The only thing Felix comprehended was they purred at him in expectation of food. How could they not, when he fed them regularly, forced by an overly enthusiastic Ashe and a hot-headed Caspar. A habit the two had not entirely forced on him, actually. Sporadically the swordsman enjoyed their company. The company of cats, Felix added inwardly.

_Annoying_. Felix's stomach grunted in accordance. The sound startled a kitten pawing at his boot, it hissed and jumped away as it felt threatened by the aggressive sound. Like a domino, the kitten tumbled against an older cat, which crashed into another. Before long, the entire courtyard buzzed with the sound of hissing and growling cats. They created a dissonance strong enough to wake the ten elites from their graves, or at least some of the sleeping servants, knights and students.

Felix rolled his eyes at the clamorous creatures, not that they would notice. They snapped at each other, got entangled in trifle arguments, the sound of the swordsman's complaining stomach forgotten. Hardly a possibility for Felix himself, his stomach reminded him with another wave of cramps. On soft paws, considering the cacophony behind him a redundant measure, the swordsman inexorably drew nearer to procure food, leaving the murder of felines behind.

As it turned out, the dinning hall already accommodated a nightly visitor, of which kind, Felix would have to discover for himself. A pale light ghosted between the crack of a door that should be closed tightly. It shyly flickered and floated from one window to another, like an ignis fatuus restlessly roaming the night for eternity. A gentle breeze added its share to the ghostly scenery as it pulled at leaves and bushes. In the distance, cats howled, shutters rattled, and the door in front of the swordsman creaked sorrowfully. At the latest from this time, a more frightful character, like Ashe or Lysithea, would immediately abort the mission in terror. The swordsman snarled at the mere thought. If Felix started to believe in ghosts, gremlins and goblins, the swordsman might as well consider a boar a human.

Stealthily, he peeked through the crack, checking for a certain older kitchen maid. Felix did not know her name, nor did he care for it. And in return, the grey female was just as apathetic about his identity. Her muteness certainly contributed to that part a lot. A coin or two of gold, and she would allow him to sneak in and fetch some leftovers.

However, he saw no maid or servant dutifully cleaning or sweeping the floor. The hall was too dingy for someone with honest ambitions or official cleaning business. Definitely a student as hungry as himself, Felix concluded, unless the archbishop fancied milk and cookies in the hide of the night. Goddess, hopefully, not Sylvain and one of his amorous escapades. The swordsman was not keen to interrupt the immoral redhead while he shared an intimate moment with an unfortunate soul who had fallen for some frivolous sweet-talk. Sylvain's overly graphic retellings of how to misuse provisions like cream, whip and fruits were quite sufficient for feeding Felix's nightmares for the rest of his life.

As the swordsman's eyes adapted to the drabness, Felix could discern shadows overlapping shadows which overlapped more shadows. With tentative steps, he went for the light and circumvented smaller splotches of darkness until his hand found a resolute surface Felix recognized as the kitchen counter. From there on, the swordsman could slowly but surely move forward while he listened.

At first, Felix only heard an omnipresent silence murmuring which was preferable to breathless, strangled and half-spoken whispers of passion. There, the crepitating sound of a small fire, something rasped on a metallic object, a pan or a pot Felix wagered. With each move towards the candle; a lightning spell would burn brighter, so probably no hungry mage; the veil of darkness thickened again, it struggled to hide the secrets and identities of both its guest like a discrete host of an Abyssian nightclub with highly questionable moral standards.

Slowly, the curtain lifted and granted him surreptitiously glimpses his hungry mind attempted to puzzle together. A mob of tousled, purple-tinged hair cast dubious shades on the walls and marred the light. Shadow and light designed an ancient creature, whose hungry fingers pried into the darkness in search for something to devour; or maybe for some intruder. A dress swooshed with every movement while tongues of flames licked at hissing and screaming offerings. An apocalyptic spectacle if one did not know the petite originator, Felix, however, identified Bernadetta at once.

Instinctively, the feline noble scooped closer and hid behind the kitchen counter, trying his best to stay silent, a habit he had learnt quite recently. Stumbling over Bernadetta at midnight was not something Felix had anticipated in any scenario. Not that the swordsman entertained many excessive fantasies about meeting girls at midnight in the kitchen, or anywhere else for that matter, but if one occupied his mind lately, it was her.

Indecisive; goddess since when had Felix become indecisive; he pondered whether to talk to the girl or not. Last time Bernadetta had smiled at him. A genuine, sweet smile, Felix had earned himself by shielding her from a bandit's axe. A smile that only had cost him two bruised ribs, one broken clavicle, a sprained wrist and a scar along his stomach. A good bargain compared to the nerves his friends had cost Felix all his life. A smile that lasted only the fraction of a second before the world had transformed into a black haze. By now, the swordsman wondered if he had not dreamt the whole incident.

On the other hand, Raphael had told everyone; actually only Ignatz, but the brawler's boisterous voice had echoed over the whole training ground; of Bernadetta's wrath as she discovered Raphael spying on her. An enormous rage that caused the giant to shiver until this day. The incident left no room for speculations on how Bernadetta would react to discovering him. Though Felix supposed the risk was worth it. Everything was better than the fear on her face whenever they met.

Bernadetta wore a shoulder free nightgown; a flouncy dress with a ton of ruffles which caused her to look like a gigantic dandelion, ready to fly away with the next breeze. Or maybe, Felix thought, Bernadetta looked more like an exquisite praline wrapped in a fancy decoration that Mercedes and Annette would share at one of their illustrious tea parties where no boys, especially the crabbed ones, were allowed.

Felix already began thinking in food categories, a bad omen. Next, he would nibble at the oblivious girl's neck if he did not watch out. Felix had a hunch that Bernadetta would not be delighted by that in the slightest. Alternatively, Felix tried to focus on the girl's hair. Her purple-hair was messy, as always, only this time she had combed the bangs into a micro ponytail. Somehow, Bernadetta had even managed to include that charming protruding strand into the bunch. That rebellious one, on top of her head which Felix longed to twist between his fingers. Her current hairstyle reminded Felix of a ripe artichoke with her micro ponytail serving as a stalk. A delectable, little artichoke in a lovely wrapping. And there he was once more, thinking about a girl in the metaphorical language of food. 

"♪ Hm hm-hm-hm...,

Staying all day with my mouth wide agape,

I lure you in with my lips sweet as grape,

While you drown in wine,

I will make you my dine. ♪" 

Bernadetta started to chant, ripping Felix out of his stupid fantasies. After humming a few notes, Bernadetta talked to herself, or the milk, or perhaps to that mouth-watering snack she prepared. Felix did not care. "Oh, that rhyme was not bad, Bernie. Got to share that one with Annie and Thea."

Felix agreed. What could possibly be better than to listen to one girl singing highly controversial lyrics? A trio, without a doubt. A weakness, Felix hoped no one would turn against him. Admittedly, it was a rather improbable scenario that Felix would ever face a battalion of adorable choir singers that serenaded the swordsman to death on a battlefield. Ignoring the insistent voice of a lively sorceress who reprimanded him for doing what he shouldn't, Felix continued to eavesdrop unabated.

Lamentably, the girl provided no more lyrics, just a softly hummed melody. Nonetheless, Bernadetta's elusive voice lulled him into a sleepy daze. Felix's eyes slowly fluttered shut as his head rested on his palms while his mind repeated the girl's rhyme in infinite repetition. Alas, his stomach needed something more substantial than chirped, poetic words. It fussed like an unleashed beast and broke the sweet moment of rest. The noise reverberated in the empty hall, reflected by the stone walls. Good acoustics. Bad for Felix. Bernadetta whirled towards him with her dress swirling theatrically around her thighs.

"W-Who is there? Into the light!" A gleaming knife in her hand, the girl bravely faced the darkness that held him hidden. Clumsily, it cut through the air. Bernadetta noticed and gripped the knife by the pointy end, ready to fling the darn thing at him like he was an apple in a street performance. A risk, Felix would like to avoid, given the accuracy of her eye and the quickness of her paranoia.

"Bernadetta." The swordsman called her name softly as it explained everything, his identity and ulterior motives likewise. "It's me, Felix," he added, not entirely sure if his presence helped or intensified Bernadetta's fright.

Surprisingly, it helped. Bernadetta dropped her deadly projectile and relaxed. A reaction so unusual for the girl Felix wondered if her voice had sung him to sleep. He could not be more surprised if an ensemble consisting of Dedue, Hubert and Seteth, dressed in pompous dancing outfits, showed up and tap-danced around him to the rhythm of ' _stacks of steaks and cakes and crumbs and yums_ ' while they crooned the damn song.

"Fe-Fe," Bernadetta began, instead of that usual stutter, a deep yawn stretched his name on her lips to a barely discernable accumulation of syllables. Her slumberous tongue rolled over his name, swallowed a part of it and ended with a hiccup-like sound of the last two letters. It was so adorable Felix couldn't even take offence at the grand mispronunciation that turned his name into ' _Fee-hicks_ '. Which, irritatingly, sounded a lot like his own futile attempts at pronouncing his forename as a child.

Languidly, Bernadetta rubbed the sleep from her eyes with her hands turned to little fists. She squeezed her round cheeks until rosy clouds rose on them as the blood circulated through them. For a breath's length, the ritual invigorated her spirits, before the promise of a momentary nodding off threatened to steal her attention from him again.

"So, who did you bribe to get in? I swear that crooked old woman who allows me in will ruin House Fraldarius with her demands." The swordsman tried talking casually, leaned leisurely on the counter in imitation of a bizarre mixture between Claude and Sylvain. The crux, however, was that he utterly failed, a clear indication Felix was wide awake, despite the surreal situation. His voice was monotonous and his body stiff as a sword. Well, he had never claimed he mastered the art of conversation. There was a reason the swordsman earned himself a nickname like the anti-conversationalist after all, which was actually one of the more harmless names.

As always with Bernadetta, the girl couldn't answer his question outright. She hopped from one foot onto the other like she was part of an exclusive choreography, fumbled with her fingers and gnawed on her lip. Seemingly, the girl appraised Felix's potential reaction to a horrible, worldshaking secret before coming to the conclusion that he was not in the position to be judgemental, violating the monastery rules with his presence alone at this ungodly time.

"Well, I kind of picked the lock." Bernadetta murmured, a trifle proudly at her successful criminal accomplishment, and pouted as she realized his incredulous look, the arched eyebrow or the way he exhaled. Or maybe all three things at once.

"And where does a lady learn to picklock? Must have missed Yuri's Seminar on thievery for aspiring criminals. Or was it recluse exclusive?" Felix interrogated the girl, impressed by her skilled hands. Bernadetta von Varley was a terrifying little lady, hiding all that potential behind a veil of anxiety. Sometimes, it lifted, and Felix sneaked a glimpse of another Bernadetta. One that made his heart flutter in the most confusing way possible. One that proofed that Felix was not immune to emotion in contrary to his friends' beliefs.

"Ashe showed me." Wrecked with guilt at revealing her accomplice in crime without any horrible death threats, Bernadetta tried to defend the freckled boy while she stirred up some seeds in the pan. "I-I asked him. We were reading a book, and I was _so_ curious. So he showed me. For the sake of immersion."

"Right, for the sake of immersion," Felix repeated dryly, not believing her excuse at all. "What's next? Sneak into Ferdinand's tea vault or steal the archbishop's crown from her head? Break into the holy tomb?"

To his surprise, Bernadetta chuckled at his proposals and ignored the sarcastic undertone. Felix could get addicted to the melody of her laugh, even more than to her previous musical performance. "Oh, Felix. One does not simply break into the holy tomb. It has a deadlock enchanted with complex magic."

"...You are quite an odd girl. And a terrifying one at that." A fact, Felix would do well to remember, not that the girl would snatch his daggers while he was drowning in an ocean of silver. Although, if she laughed at him like that, Felix might play the willing victim, at least if no one else was around.

"Ah, a-and you are...," between titters and yawns Bernadetta tried to find a suiting insult, a delicate task for someone as sleep drunken as the recluse. Feverishly, the girl considered her repertoire of most likely silly curses before finding a match, the process quite visible on her face. "A pineapple! Right, you are a pineapple, Felix!"

"What is that even supposed to mean?" Did she call him prickly or soft and sweet? Both things were unacceptable. Felix did not receive an answer. Maybe there was no real answer, or Bernadetta forgot his question in her slumberous state. It did not stop him from thinking about it, though.

Next to the stove, a long piece of metal glistened in the dim light of the burning candle. A slim double-pointed knitting needle, a potential weapon that Felix could hide well in his boots, laid next to a variety of sharp knives. Taking the needle into his hand, the swordsman flipped the light metal between his fingers and let it whistle through the air. Indeed, a beneficial tool.

"This needle is quite an impressive little weap–" The needle clanked to the floor as Bernadetta crashed into him, her nose poked his chest, her arms dangled like a pendulum on each side of his body. Felix tried to snake a hand around her waist, which was impossible due to the mass of foamy flounces concealing her curves. Felix's face flushed at her sudden flirtatious move, before detecting a sound ridiculing him. A snore. Bernadetta snored blissfully, rubbing her cheek against his chest like he was a giant teddy bear.

"Ugh, I can't leave you alone for one second...," Felix grumbled at a dozing Bernadetta, her brain too cloudy to comprehend his words. Gently, he tried shaking her awake, to no avail. Instead, the sleeping girl cuddled closer and started to nibble at his waistcoat like Felix was a sweet bun in disguise. Well, Felix supposed there were worse things than Bernadetta chewing on his clothes like a toddler.

For a while, the swordsman juggled between balancing the girl in one arm and preventing the snack from catching fire, a challenging task for someone who had no clue on how to deal with one of these things. Let alone both at once. In addition, Bernadetta was most uncooperative in her somnolent state. Not only did the girl twist and turn in his arm, Bernadetta occasionally fondled his face, messed up his hair or pinched his cheeks.

The latter, Felix suspected, an act of pure, deliberate provocation since it seemed unlikely for a sleeping person to aim so accurately. Cautiously, her fingers wandered up repeatedly, leaving goosebumps on their way, then stilled as if they noticed they were under surveillance. This time, the swordsman waited, observing Bernadetta's peaceful face. As already assumed, the sharp pinch followed promptly while the girl's face stayed as innocent as the statue of Saint Cethleann. None the wiser, he groaned in exasperation causing Bernadetta to snuggle closer. Felix supposed burning the monastery to its foundations would put an end to her sleep, feigned or not. Unfortunately, it would end his training as well.

A lone thunderous grumble piped up from his belly, finally shaking the girl from her nap. "A-Attack! A demonic beast!"

Strong and muscled, Bernadetta's arms were impressively powerful as she stemmed her hands against his chest to straighten herself up. Felix pushed his heels into the ground to not be shoved back by the girl and taste the hard ground. Still, the swordsman slightly lurched backwards. As the girl noticed that no creature would devour her, she gave him a look over.

"You look completely deranged. What happened to your hair?" Bernadetta commented his dishevelled appearance, a state that was entirely her fault, with a scrunched up nose and an audacity Felix ascribed to her drowsy state. "And your face is red all over. Are you ill?"

"I, You - ." _Fuck_. Whatever brilliant reply his brain had concocted, died on his tongue as Bernadetta's hands flew over his face. In her examination, the girl squeezed his face like he was an obstinate child at the market. Felix half expected Bernadetta to moisten her thumb with spit to cleanse his skin from dirty splotches and stains. Luckily for both of them, she did not try his patience in such a manner.

No, she preferred to yawn deeply, closed her eyes and washed over his forehead to feel his temperature. Grabbling over eyes, nose and mouth, Bernadetta managed to mess him up further. "Goddess, Felix, you are boiling!"

"More like exploding," Felix fumed, sticking slipped strands of azure back into something that hopefully resembled his usual updo. It did not work. He felt his bun crumble like his composure the instant his grip loosened.

Felix had to look even more chaotic than before because Bernadetta laughed at him. To her credit, the girl tried hiding it, but the gurgling sound gave her away. The ruffles that enchanted her silhouette did not conceal her delight either. With each subdued laugh, the ruches drifted like a sky lantern in the air as if they were an extension of Bernadetta's emotions. And her buoyancy rubbed off on him as well, the muscles in his face formed a goofy grin that almost hurt. Sheepishly, Felix massaged his neck and shifted his gaze towards the floor.

"You realize you wear no shoes?" Felix pointed at her bare feet, happy to guide the attention of the recluse towards something else than his poor parody of a hairstyle.

"I am aware of this fact," lied Bernadetta in a squeaky voice, already dancing on her tiptoes to avoid further contact with the cold stone floor. A flash of her usual anxiety bubbled out of her, triggered by the delighted look on his stupid face. "W-What are you doing here in the middle of the night, anyway?"

Felix's traitorous stomach answered in his stead. This time longer and louder than before like a disregarded animal prying for attention from the most reliable source of food. Which, obviously, wasn't Felix himself. However, he was grateful for the intervention. Somehow, he doubted that dubious answers such as eavesdrop would appease the girl or anyone, in any way.

"Oh, you're lucky. I like shareable snacks the most." Bernadetta frolicked and clapped her hands in excitement. Felix agreed for slightly different reasons. Honestly, sharing was none of his good points. However, ever so often, Felix filched some spiced meat from Ingrid's plate and pretended Sylvain was the culprit. So, in a way, he liked the concept.

Bernadetta's moony eyes glimmered with anticipation, as she waved a can of heated milk in front of his starving nose. "A glass of milk for you, too? To sleep better?"

"Hmph, I'm not a child, Berna-," again his stomach protested profusely at his words and interrupted him midsentence, pleading the recluse for support. The girl's shining orbs still lingered on his embarrassed face as she snatched two cups.

"Fine, a glass of milk, then," Felix snapped back at his stomach in frustration, while Bernadetta ignored his caprices and toddled towards a chair, not waiting till he made up his mind. And like a real cry-baby, Felix stomped after the girl and audibly jerked a chair across the floor. How very grown-up of him.

Bernadetta was not the least impressed by his display. She looked expectantly at him as she offered some of her snacks. "Say _Aah_!"

"No, that's so not going to happen. Never." No, he would not allow anybody to feed him. Not even if he broke all of his bones and the only other option would be to plunge his face into a bowl like a dog.

"Oh, come on, Felix. Open wide!" Bernadetta beamed at him while Felix snickered at the Sylvaine-like command.

"Berna- hmph," he choked on his words as Bernadetta deliberately shoved a hand full of warm pumpkin seeds down his throat, her slim fingers fluttered over his face, her palms sealed his mouth, preventing him from spitting the deadly meal out. Felix mind revolted at the involuntary intrusion while his stomach roared in joyful anticipation. The cheeky girl had awaited the exact moment when his mouth would be wide agape. A diabolical little scheme he hadn't considered the recluse was capable of engineering.

"Hah, feed you," Bernadetta declared triumphantly, pointing with her index at him. Satisfaction glimmered in her moony eyes as if she was Saint Seiros reborn, emerging victorious from the battlefield.

Meanwhile, Felix couldn't stop the very Bernadettaesque thought growing in his mind that he would be the first, and probably last, Fraldarius who died by a more or less elaborate faked domestic accident as he coughed on his presumably last midnight snack.

With his cheeks stuffed to the brim, he began chewing, his jaw clenched with the sheer effort to eat the mass of seeds. Admittedly, the snack did taste good, not that he would inform the mischievous girl in front of him. Perfectly suited after training. Then, Felix seized a cup of heated milk. As soon as he swallowed the hot beverage, he felt better. Felix would not admit that truth as well. Finally, he was able to speak once more, this time more cautious. Who knew when Bernadetta would strike anew?

"Bernadetta," Felix started, voice hoarse and throat sore like the bubbling lava of Ailell gushed through it. Another cough, then he cleared his throat and fixed his gaze on the girl. The moonlight grasped the opportunity to broke through the windows, enshrouding her in soft illumination, an illusion of pure innocence. Au contraire!

"What would you say if I stuffed you with food?" Felix inquired through gritted teeth, trying his best to not sound like the petulant cry-baby of his past. Or to scare the girl away. Because absurd as it was, a part of him enjoyed her jauntiness derived from practically assassinating him.

Bernadetta pondered about it for a breath's length. Her brows dipped into a tiny frown, her lips pursed into a pout. Then excitement flared over her face, tinted her all the way from her cheeks to her collarbone and beyond with red, and turned her into a giddy, flouncy ball of emotions.

"That would be wonderful. I could pretend to be a carnivorous plant with food flying into my mouth." Bernadetta's eyes light up as she pictured and embellished the vision in her mind. As she shook her head, her hair swooshed through the air, and charming chuckles filled the silent dining hall. Cupping her heated face with both hands, she looked like the two of them were talking about crushes, not some plants. Foolish, too say the least. Foolish of him to be infatuated by her foolishness, foolish of his heart to beat faster.

A few giggles later, Bernadetta decided to acknowledge Felix was still present, watching her quirks in fascination. For once, the recluse leaned forwards, instead of recoiling. Lethargically, her curly lashes fluttered a few times before they brushed against the top of her cheeks. With an exaggerated _plop_ , Bernadetta opened her mouth, ready to indulge in her carnivorous fantasy, dragging the swordsman into it. "Feed me, Felix."

No. Absolutely no. There was no way he would do it. A minute passed, still, the swordsman looked stupified at the purple-haired noble.

_Tap, tap, tap_. The cadence of her impatience slowly dribbled into his mind as Bernadetta's fingers began to drum on the sturdy wooden table.

_Tap, tap, tap_. The rhythm of the girl's excitement speeded up. Its resonance echoed in his mind, strummed the strings of his taut nerves. It would be a most infantile form of retaliation to stuff Bernadetta's plump cheeks as she had done with him. His fingers twitched with the impulse to grab a portion the girl could not swallow in one bite. Instead of following that idiotic instinct, Felix pinched the bridge of his nose in defeat.

"Fine, but don't complain if it isn't to your liking." At once, the irritating sound stopped, affirming his suspicion that Bernadetta von Varley hid a naughty streak under layers of anxiety. One that could transform a gruesome, bloodthirsty warrior like the Death Knight into a cat-loving, peach sorbet eating simpleton. At least, the man still had a chance to escape that fate. Unfortunately for Felix, that wyvern had long left the nest.

Resigned to his fate, the curmudgeonly swordsman picked the savouriest seeds from the bowl. With her lips parted, Felix assumed Bernadetta was an excellent imitation of a snap trap. A pair of plump lobes, their centres painted in a vibrant plum which faded to a delicate rose, allowed a glimpse at the pink cavity laying beyond. They promised no less than paradise to the famished. The wet sheen adorning them did nothing to attenuate the flowery image unfolding in his head. A pretty illusion, the swordsman had to admit. Only that this particular trap possessed teeth which Felix was sure most carnivorous plants did not.

Was he playing a nemesis's game, with his extremities at stake? Felix could only hope Bernadetta would be a good snap trap and not bite his fingers off. Cautiously, he narrowed the distance between them until the girl's warm breath tickled against his fingers. Instinct or paranoia, Felix wasn't sure what it was, but Bernadetta noticed the proximity and snapped.

Four saints, timid and meek Bernadetta snapped. Faster than a flicker, her lips closed around the snack. Teeth, Felix was sure he caught a glimpse of pearly teeth as her mouth touched his fingertips. The swordsman withdrew his fingers, feeling the faint phantom pain of a dismembered finger ghosting along his spine.

Well, his hand counted five fingers, that was a sure thing. However, a faint wet film lingered on the tips that made him gulp. Close, far too close. Meanwhile, Bernadetta happily munched on her pumpkin seeds, hummed as she squashed them into a pulp.

"Satisfied?" Felix demanded hoarsely; his demeanour a charade of feigned nonchalance and imperiousness. A futile attempt to sound like his usual self that presumably no one believed either way, not even a sleep-drunken recluse. And how could such a thing work, when he could not deny the tremor in his voice, the shaking in his once steady hand? Self-delusion was not his metier, after all. Felix preferred to excel in avoiding and snapping back. And even that did not work right now.

A huff from Bernadetta disturbed his thoughts, while an unsatisfied expression clouded her face. So, he did screw it up. How utterly surprising.

"Told you not to complain. Never said I have a purple thumb, either." Felix clarified defiantly with his arms crossed.

"I'm still hungry," Bernadetta confessed. As if both their stomachs understood the recluse, they hungrily roared in accordance. Of course, the girl noticed and cooed among the rumble. "Should we continue to feed each other?"

"No." This time, Felix was quick to respond. Too fast for Bernadetta. She popped a hand full of snacks, initially meant for him, into her mouth and sulked silently. In response, and because he felt a rare smile tugging at his lips which he wanted to cover, Felix casually took a swig from the milk cup.

Mirroring his gesture, Bernadetta sipped at her milk. There she was again, acting all foolish while she gawked at him. The milk bubbled and foamed in uproar as she blew her laughter into it.

"What now?" Felix demanded impatiently. "You are staring at me."

"I-I think you are not the type for a moustache," the girl blurted out before ripples of laughter shook her petite form. For the umpteenth time, Felix was at a loss for words. What, in the name of Seiros, was going on in the girl's head?

Bernadetta needed a few blinks to regain her composure. As she did, the girl took a deep sip of milk. When she placed the cup down, Felix could see a milky moustache on top of a smug smile. It took him a heartbeat to follow up with her thoughts. Reaching for his lips, he felt a thin layer of moisture. With the back of his hand, Felix smudged the milk from his lips, a sharp reply on his tongue. However, Bernadetta had dozed off while he was busy shaving his beard. Flickering his fingers against her forehead, Felix awakened the girl.

"Seems like somebody should hurry into bed." Felix extended a hand, waiting for Bernadetta to snap out of the puffy, comfortable cloud of her dream. Clumsily, the purple-haired noble stumbled from her chair and embraced his entire arm, dragging both of them towards the doors.

"I think it's time to get carried unless you enjoy cold feet." Felix snorted at Bernadetta's bare feet. A sleepy-headed Bernadetta nodded before snaking her arms around his waist and heaving the swordsman up. Initially, Felix was baffled, no more like completely stupified, as his feet lost ground and uselessly dangled in the air to find a hold. Goddess, how long had it been since someone lifted him? Felix could not retrieve one memory, still too overwhelmed by the grotesque situation.

And worse, he felt like a knight in one of Ingrid's tales who rode in a sea of clouds, the sensation of floating not entirely atrocious to the swordsman. Beneath him, Bernadetta appeared like a fuzzy, gracious, and purple cloud, the rushes of her dress engulfed Felix in comfortable fluffiness. With ease, the petite archer carried him for a wyvern's length through the garden before Felix's brain, and pride worked again.

"Bernadetta, let me down. Now." Impatiently, Felix pulled gently at the small ponytail on top of her head. It took the girl another wyvern's length to notice. Guardedly the strong girl lowered him on the grass as if Felix was some uprooted fragile flower Bernadetta wished to replant.

"This does not help. My feet are still cold." Flustered, she bit her lip as she glowered at him like Felix had played a vile trick on her. Nobody should look that cutesy when aggravated, the swordsman mused, it made it difficult to take them seriously. The way she stomped on the ground and whirled her arms did not help her cause either.

"You are teasing me. Again! How is this supposed to - _Aaah_!" The tantrum stopped as Felix plucked her unceremoniously from the ground. Her limbs flailed as she struggled against him, her fists hammered against his chest. To his shame, he had to admit that Bernadetta's punches were powerful, making him snarl at her.

Their kerfuffle roused a few cats from whatever they were doing until now, probably the same ones he left behind him a while ago. They hissed at the bickering couple, their tails waved in annoyance, adding further noise to the entire cacophony. It was a sheer miracle that no one took notice of the two or cared about the couple. They caused enough commotion that someone might consider the monastery was under siege.

"Goddess, Bernadetta stop moving already. You're enormous." She wasn't. She knew it. He knew it. Both knew that she knew that he knew _._ Ugh, his mind spun in circles.

"And you were particularly lightweight, like a sweet little snap trap," parried Bernadetta, while she pulled at his waistcoat to climb higher until her fingers intertwined behind his neck.

"So you find me sweet? You have to if you compare me to your darling plants." The mirth in his voice was as apparent as if the corner of his lips twisted into a smile. Mayhaps, that was the reason why his step was more springy than usual as he took the steps downwards to the girl's chamber. Bernadetta was not amused.

"Well, um...," the purple-haired lady squirmed in his arms, trying to free herself from the abysmal situation, physically and mentally. Then, out of nowhere, Bernadetta regained the ability to speak, not in his favour. "Is that why your heart is pounding so fast?"

"Shut up," Felix urged her brusquely, feeling his heartbeat speed up at the little knowing smirk the troublesome girl offered him.

"Stop that," The swordsman warned as he felt her fingers in his neck playing with some loose strands. Should he be surprised at this point that Bernadetta ignored him? Felix did not think so. On a whim, he pinched her thigh. A very strapping one, Felix noted in fascination.

"Ouch." Bernadetta whelped, kneading the area of his assault. Accusingly, the girl looked at Felix, making him feel slightly guilty. The sentiment did not last long, however, as the swordsman recalled his tortured cheeks.

"What? Want me to blow comfortingly at your wound, little weakling?" The grumpy noble replied as sarcastically as possible.

Huffy, Bernadetta blew some air into Felix's face to unsettle him. It worked. The blood in his ears rushed, and goosebumps rose in a matter of seconds on his skin. Exceedingly self-satisfied with his reaction, Bernadetta brazenly snuggled closer and warmed her cold nose at his chest. The girl was fortunate. If they had taken the path by the lake, Felix might have thrown Bernadetta into the freezing depths.

"We passed my door," Bernadetta yawned, pointing towards it. Suddenly, the faint feverish spark of her usual anxiety flared up. Instead of her previous struggle, her body went into a catatonic rigidity. "W-wait, are you planning to drown me?"

"No." Felix turned on his heels, trying to feign an innocent expression to conceal his previous idea of throwing the girl into the midnight's water. He seemed to be a terrible liar, or Bernadetta could read his mind as she gasped for air for another rant.

"You, you are lying!" The girl accused him, while he dropped her at the door, placing her bare feet onto his boots.

"The thought passed my mind." Felix shrugged it off; a futile endeavour, considering Bernadetta held onto his shoulders while she tiptoed on his boots. Several emotions ghosted over her face while her lustrous eyes stared at him, inspected every twist of his muscles as if they betrayed his deepest, darkest secrets and desires. Embarrassed, he turned away, feeling some colour join his already beet-red face.

"Good night, Felix," whispered Bernadetta. Felix never learned, did he? Again, he left his defences wide open. Velvety, sumptuous and pliable. The feeling of her warm lips, pressed on his cheek for a goodnight kiss, left him paralyzed. It was like the goddess had reversed their roles. For once, Felix was the odd one, the petrified one, the inarticulate one. That was if Bernadetta had been more cantankerous, which was quite a discrepancy in the entire scenario. So, in reality, he was the only one acting strange, or stranger than ordinarily.

All wobbly knees, Bernadetta slipped off his boots. With that, her lips glid down, resting on his jawline. For a moment, they stayed like that, his hands grabbing the doorframe to steady himself.

"Ouch!" A sharp sting on his jawline broke the spell cast upon him. His hand darted towards the painful spot, while his mind still tarried to progress what happened. Bernadetta bit him! Not enough to draw blood. Nevertheless, Felix was sure the petite girl left a visible mark on his jaw, one he would not be able to explain to anyone.

Instinctively, he wanted to grab Bernadetta. Felix was not fast enough. Would he ever be? Instead, she gallantly pivoted on her tiptoes and hopped into her room, her face mirroring the same glowing redness that adorned Felix's face. A muffled bang chimed through the door as Bernadetta plopped down on her bed.

Dumbstruck, Felix stood in front of her locked door, his hand still reached out to capture Bernadetta. The repercussion of her touch burned in his chest and face alike, devoured his entire world. Briefly, the swordsman wondered if he caught a cold when it was so clear he caught feelings.

"Good night, Bernie," Felix muttered his farewell, his mind an absolute mess. At least he was not hungry anymore. Not for food.

**Author's Note:**

> I liked the idea of showing that Bernadetta is more than anxious. Some of her other supports show how playful, brave and cheeky Bernadetta can get. And Felix would definitely be overwhelmed and fall hard for that foolish side of her.
> 
> Thank you for taking your precious time to read my story.


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